Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
at adventu, we believe that colorful story and plots far outweigh the need for a battle system. rp should be about the writing, the fun, and the creativity. you will see that the only system on our site is the encouragement to create amazing adventures with other members. welcome to adventu... how will you arrive?
year 5, quarter 3
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Promise Me You'll Take me on your next Adventure. A Journey. Together. That's all I ask.
G'raha didn't notice anything particularly out of place. He sniffed again when Cissnei asked about. "No, not charred and," a quick sniff, "Off. It's definitely putrid and meaty but nothing I can put my finger on at current." G'raha hmmed as he wandered over to the window watching the rain and lightning. This manor was interesting indeed. He wondered just how many secrets the Count had hidden aside from the reported theories on the rift. If the man were anything like himself, he would have his fingers in a few different pies of research and theories. "At the least I think finding out what it is should help see just what all the Count had in store for this evening."
As he prepared to follow the smell, the child went on his rampage. G'raha could not move for a moment, his ears perking high in shock as he watched the trills of paper in the air. There was no way to know if there was any other copies of those books. What may have seemed like just paper to the young child, G'raha saw someone's life's work, the culmination of their efforts, torn away from them and lost to an uncaring whim. It made him feel mortal, and afraid of how quickly one's achievements and goals could be extinguished so quickly. Still he went from shock to sad trying to find the words he wanted to express. The child acted with unbridled feralness and G'raha was beginning to wonder why there was one here at all. Was he the Count's child? Something didn't click with that and his thoughts soured as he wondered if he was a pet or worse.
He approached the child in his glee and crouched down to his level. He needed to work out how he could make sure he didn't destroy anything else while also making sure he didn't run off on his own. G'raha vowed to protect him until the murder had been solved. "How rude of me, I forgot to ask your name." He smiled as his ears perked up scooping a few of the discarded tatters in his hands. "I too love to play and frolic and enjoy my whims," he nodded hoping his words were getting through to the child. "However, something quite bad has happened and we can't play right now. And we should only play with our own toys too. How about when we get things under control you and I can find some time to play then?"
G'raha grinned his eyes going wide with his enthused excitement. He blew the tatters in his hands softly so they'd look like snowflakes to the child as his eye caught the title of one of the thrashed novels. Advanced Genetic Theory. Well the book was of no use to him now, but he didn't like the idea of that subject with the smell of the meat in the air. Just what was this Count up to? He picked up the torn cover walking over to show Cissnei and see if she made the same thought process. "I think finding the source of the smell is imperative," he said his tone less enthused then when he had spoken to the boy. "Won't you help me sniff that strange smell out?" He asked the child as he opened the door to the east hallway following his own sense of smell as well now horrified by the things that they might find. At least it didn't smell like Meol. A very small comfort.
[attr="class","infoNotes"]Hmm. Gau is safe from the Turk, because G'raha is a reasonable person.
[attr="class","crashLyrics"]Servants and Suspects[break]YOU WERE HIT BY, YOU WERE STRUCK BY A SMOOTH CRIMINAL
[attr="class","crashBody"]
The waiting room was certainly not very welcoming. Couches were awkwardly arranged, placing guests uncomfortably near each other at odd angles. The storm seemed to shake the fear into the room with its unnerving jarring of the windows. And yet Cissnei paid it no mind as she eyed the similar topics. A frown furrowed on her lips at seeing the Advanced Genetic Theory book. What was this? It sparked memories of Shinra memory and Hojo’s experiments on people. Was the Count just as mad? Was this the reason for the ‘off’ scent G’raha spoke about?
[break][break] But, before she could further contemplate, the green child steamrolled the entire room. There was destruction of property. The room that was already uncomfortable, was made even more so by the shredded furniture and broken coffee tables. But what completely struck her sapiosexual heart to absolute pieces was the destruction of the beautiful leather bound books. The knowledge lost in a span of seconds. She felt as if her spirit left her body at the sight, as she went cold with shock.
[break][break] Worse, this behavior would hinder their investigation. She began to reach for a small vial and cloth inside a hidden pocket of her blazer. Her eyes shifted to see the cloak room. The child was small enough to bundle in a large coat and hang in the closet. Nap time may be in order to buy them time for the investigation.
[break][break] But, G’raha had already chosen a more tactful approach with Gau. Maybe he had more experience with children than she? She found herself admiring that trait in his relations with others. Shinra had always treated children like small business folk. The unruly orphans ‘disappeared’ and later she would find out they were used for scientific experiments.
[break][break] She found herself letting G’raha hand the child as she removed her hand from her pocket with a penlight instead. She turned to the cloak room. She had not the nose to know where they were originally heading, but maybe the perpetrator left something of note in a pocket. After all, sometimes when things are placed in a pocket, one accidentally forgets about them. She began to rifle through the pockets, starting with the wet coats. Those must have been the most recent.
[break][break] As she was rifling through for clues, G’raha approached her. “Hm?” She eyed the book for a moment, before looking him in the eye. Then, she quickly glanced away back to her work. “Such research occurred in my universe to such catastrophic effects.” She hesitated at her next words, finding a particular pocket difficult to open. The memories stilled her: Sephiroth, Angeal, Genesis, Zack, Cloud, Vincent, Aerith...even the makonoids were simple employees that met a poor end. The failed experiments and the new attempts were all done under her nose. The secrets kept from her by Veld and Tseng to protect her from the worse of Shinra. The moment she found out about them, she helped the ‘experiments’ escape. Or at least tried to. She shook her head.
[break][break] “It might be related to the scent… You aren’t afraid of what you will find if it is? For the child’s sake?” She asked gently, head turning back up to look at him from the corner of her eye. She was sure G’raha was determined for the truth, but should they subject the child to more horror and gore? “It should be stopped if innocents are being hurt.” Usually, she wouldn’t care. But, the manor and strange experiments hit too close to her personal experience.
These books were priceless. Hand-written, they will be lost to time as their pages flutter softly to the ground. It is indeed snowing. Snowing knowledge, that is.
The first few coats yield nothing of note. However, in the pocket of an absurdly large coat you find a whistle still wet with the rain. Searching the other pocket, you find a lighter powered by a Torensten fire crystal. It's engraved with the initials R.C.
As the group is speaking, there is a strange chill in the air. You feel as though you’re being watched by malicious eyes. It is as though the very walls themselves are bearing down on you, and the whistle of the wind through the window is like a whisper.
Suddenly and without pretense, you are not alone.
The figure stands in shadow, head lulling, eyes hollow. Its face is twisted on one side. Blood stains its chest. It steps into the moonlight and a crack of lightning carves the face in stark contrast. The features become distinctly apparent. The burn. The wound. The slicked hair. Before you is the dead count -- Jules de Lune. He shambles forward like a corpse, one hand raising to a point in G’raha’s direction.
”You…” Its mouth falls open, the word slurred on a bloated tongue. For a moment, fury lights its glazed eyes before it stumbles, falling to its knees. It hits the ground hard and falls lifeless forward.
And as quickly as it had appeared, the count is gone.
Adjacent Locations:
The Cloak Room: This room is dark and cramped with lines of shelves. There are no windows and no candles. The only light comes from the open door of the waiting room. There are coats here, and yes, cloaks. Do these all belong to the de Lune family? It seems unlikely, and in fact, several of them are wet with rain. Do they belong to the guests? You don’t remember hanging your coat (if you had one) in this room.
The East Hallway: Candles are set into the wall here -- all lit. Rivulets of wax drip down them from the wick. This wing is meant primarily for servants, storage, and other practical matters. Directly adjacent to the cloak room are the men’s servant quarters, the butler’s bedroom, and the servant’s hall. The hallway also connects to the pantry, the women’s servant quarters, and the bedroom of Primrose Ware, the maid who was present when you woke. The odd smell leads to the storage room.
Apparently those books were really important. But how was Gau to know beforehand? Seeing as he couldn't read that well, he thought of books that big to be nothing more than either stepping stools to reach high places or just for shredding and rolling around him. Now that they were all finely shredded into a pile of yellowed petals and the two other party members were MOST DEFINITELY disappointed in him, all he could feel was shame.
"Gau... Gau sorry, Mr. Kitty. Won't do it again, promise!"
After a little silence, he piped up again. "I'm Gau, by the way."
Why had he come here in the first place? That invitation in the trash was obviously not for him. He just took it for himself because the paper felt good to touch, and when he saw others with ones just like it, he couldn't help but follow. After all, it might have helped him fit in with them! Wherever everyone was going must have been fun!
Obviously, he was dead wrong. Where was all the fun anyway? It was just a stuffy old manor, with nothing he was allowed to touch, climb or hide behind. And now here he was, surrounded by destruction of his own making. Trying his best to distract himself, he pulled out a fidget spinner hewn from elk bone and just... fiddled with it a bit.
So Mr. Kitty wanted Gau to help sniff out the smell, huh? Now that he could do! Eager for a chance to help, he piped up: "Oh! Yeah yeah! Gau help! Helping good, yeah!"
Before he could celebrate his victories for too long, a twisted figure flashed into view, sending the feral youth straight into attack mode. He didn't have time to think; just attack. Claws and fangs bared, he prepared to pounce on the corpse, only to end up with a clawful of nothing.
Did... did he kill it?
He killed it! The beast was no more! But... why was that smell still there?
There was probably something more out in the east hallway. Maybe more corpses. Now, Gau thought, was his time to be useful! Leaving the mess he'd made behind, he began making his way towards the entrance hallway through the cloak room, beckoning Mr. Kitty and that other lady to come with.
Promise Me You'll Take me on your next Adventure. A Journey. Together. That's all I ask.
"Twould be better to keep him with us then allow the horrors to find him unawares," G'raha thought as Cissnei asked him about Gau's well being. Mr. Kitty... G'raha wasn't sure how fond he was of this new nickname, but surmised it wasn't the worst thing to be called. If it was enough to get this child, Gau, to behave himself then Mr. Kitty would make sure to be the parental figure that he needed for now. "Indeed there's already enough vile creatures in the world, no need for more suffering in addition."
It seemed their course was set until a unholy moan came from the shadows. G'raha grabbed for his staff instinctively as the thing shambled forward, but his tail and ears bristled and straightened as the figure singled him out. Before he could even begin to form a word, the child sprung forward, "Gau!" he called but the vision of the Count had dissipated before the child made any sort of contact, and G'raha let out the breath he hadn't realized he had just held. His tails and ears drooped back to normal as he looked around to make sure Gau and Cissnei were unharmed.
G'raha pursed his lip as he stared at where the phantom had disappeared bringing his hand to his chin in thought. There was no denying that the figure was that of the late Count nor that it was he the late had been pointing at. He had used magic, he could feel it in his hands, but did that mean that he done anything to the Count? He couldn't rule out the possibility, but the carnage and showmanship of the murder was ghastly and gauche. If he had hurt the Count it was only to protect himself or the other guest he assured himself, but more questions popped up.
What exactly had they just experienced? If Gau's reaction was anything to go off, he was not alone in seeing the phantasm. Ghosts were common enough back home, but this felt off, different. He hadn't had experiences of the dead being able to pull themselves out of the Lifestream before, not had he ever come across anyone being able to pull themselves from it. Even the cases he knew of had been when the individual wasn't dead, their body and soul and aether flowing through it's course. The death was recent enough that the Count's aether may not have fully dissipated, but the bigger question was if the world was connected to Hydaelyn's core at all. Just what did this man know about the world beyond his mortal one? He tried to focus on the matter at hand as he shook his head, but one final thought still lingered.
Even more worrisome was that someone who should very much not be alive right now was walking around the manor as if the Warrior had not dissipated his aura into the lifestream with the white auracite. So many many, questions, but no way of finding answers if he just stood in the hallway. He needed to find the files, fast especially before Emet-Selch did unless of course this was all his design. In that case he would need to discreetly find a way of protecting everyone else from whatever diabolical schemes that could be hidden behind that nonchalant smirk of his.
Still there was more than one thing needing dealt with in this manor. It seemed Gau wasn't nearly as phased as he was, and had already begun to bolt towards the source of the smell. He shrugged to Cissnei as though nothing out of sorts had happened at all knowing full well she would probably have questions but instead followed Gau down into the hallway as the stench grew more and more pungent with each step. He pressed a hand to his mouth as they stopped before the door. "Stand back," he warned bringing his staff forth tapping it on the ground. The crystal flashed it brilliant light as it transformed into a paladin's sword and shield.
As they stood in front of the door, G'raha began to plan for the worst. "Not to play the hero of someone else's story or doubt your prowess, but if we should be assailed, I'll fend it off while you retreat with him. You need not worry about me, I've a few tricks up my sleeve. Find the others and get him to safety. Okay?" He asked of Cissnei but more importantly Gau as he looked down with a serious look that seemed more stern than when he had talk about the book. Carefully G'raha began to nudge the door to the storage room with the tip of his sword readying himself for whatever might be behind the door.
[attr="class","infoNotes"]So much side eye. Not a good sign from a Turk.
[attr="class","crashLyrics"]Get your back against the wall [break]Put your hands up, Mister Small
[attr="class","crashBody"] Who knew a coat closet could be so fruitless? Usually there could be all kinds of valuables and hidden items found within a hung coat. That’s why someone was usually stationed to guard them, no? And yet, all she found inside a huge coat was a whistle and a lighter. There was no armor that bore an eagle crest in here either. She turned the items over carefully in her hand. On the lighter, there was no marking except for the initials “R.C.” Was that Rowan Castillo, the mercenary guest she first wanted to seek out in the other direction? Interestingly enough, the lighter was powered by a fire crystal. A magical fire. She hummed thoughtfully to herself as she pocketed the items.
[break][break]
Then, before she had much time to respond to anyone, she thought the lights might have flickered and a touch of cold danced across her flesh. Her own alarm was clear as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. And then there it was, as if some mysterious phantom was disturbed in some way. It took on the likeness of the recently deceased count. She took the moment to bite back the fear rising in her, to try to study it more for any possible clues she missed when she was rushed. Her eyes followed its jabbed finger to their feline friend. She raised a brow.
[break][break] Before she could even glance back, it was gone as quickly as it came. Gau attacked but there was no substance in the things body. Even more curious for a corpse. Perhaps, luckier for the savage child.
[break][break] “Did he rub your fur the wrong way too?” She stated cheekily, keeping her thoughts to herself as her eyes burrowed into G’raha. Didn’t he just grab for a staff? And he bristled even more, possibly in shock at being called out.
[break][break] Then, before anyone could stop him, Gau was in a rush to follow his nose.
[break][break] She crossed arms and wordlessly walked a circle around him, much like a shark observing its prey. Her eyes lingered on his armor for perhaps an eagle crest as she did so. Then, he dashed after Gau and she gave a soft sigh with little choice but to follow. The male sex always seemed to be in a rush to jump into danger.
[break][break] Then, as they approached the storage door, G’raha shrugged at her and asked her to step back. She obediently did as she was told, taking in his next transformation, which suspiciously also contained a sword. Magic and a blade, much like the Count’s odd wounds.
[break][break] She listened to him as her eyes took in his new armor once more. “Oh. How generous.” She waved a dismissive hand for his worry. “I’m used to a SOLDIER escort. Please, do as you will.” If he wanted to run headlong into danger, then she had no reason to stop him. Though, her eyes trailed to Gau. She doubted she could take the wild child much of anywhere without his consent. Though, she leaned to the side to try to see around G’raha to peek at what was inside.
The storage room is well-kept, but cluttered with cleaning supplies, extra linens, and spare plates piled onto the front and back of six shelves lining each side of the room. The room is almost too dark to see, lit only by the pale blue of the thundery night and the occasional flickering of lightning.
Nestled within the shelves is a row of lanterns complete with a supply of oil.The row of shelves along the right side are knocked backwards, each one falling into each other successively until the last hits the opposite wall, cracking the window. Rain peels into the room, collecting in puddles around curtains which dance in the wind.
There are potions smashed here, glittering among the broken glass. Forks and knives and the shards of shattered porcelain tea pots carelessly litter the floor. The shelf nearest the door is smashed inwards. The wood is splintered.
Along the right side of the room, a staircase descends into utter darkness. The smell leads this way.
Adjacent Locations:
Storage Room B: The room is dark. Excessively dark. You can hear the scratch of rats, the gnawing of their teeth. Your feet crunch on splintered wood and glass. The smell is strong here -- meaty, strange, and stale. It smells of blood.
[attr="class","mini"]born to multiply, born to gaze into
[attr="class","nighty"] night skies
[attr="class","wensday"] Sniff. Sniffsnoff.
The storage room sure was a good place for exploring! So many things to touch and smell and see - well, the rest could probably not see, but Gau could. A quick tap into his Stray Cat rage and everything was as clear as spring water. And there he was, snuffling about the storage room in search of clues.
Sniffsniffsniff... Oh! There were puddles! Good for splashing in! But there was no time for splashing; there were clues to be found. Hmm, let's see... there were lanterns, which would be of use to Cissnei and perhaps Mr. Kitty. But they weren't of any use to him. Then there were the spilled potions that glittered enticingly in the dim blue light. Maybe he could give it a little taste - but then again, he didn't know what it did. Its effects could range from healing him for a few hit points to poisoning him to drastically altering his genetics. Tentative, he pressed his palm into the sticky puddle. It didn't seem to be doing much. And then he found it: that shelf that had been smashed in!
It must have been a clue!
He went over to get a closer look at the shelf. Unbeknownst to him, he had laid his one sticky hand on the wall nearest the crime scene, leaving a print. Perhaps it could be a reminder for all those wishing to investigate.
"Mr. Kitty? Cissnei? Gau found a clue!"
Sniff... waitaminute. There was that scent again! The smell of meat! And it seemed to be coming from down those stairs over there. After leaving the grown0ups to investigate, Gau descended those stairs. Perhaps secrets awaited for him in that secrety secret room! Or perhaps a bunch of broken glass, waiting to cut into his bare feet. But what were the chances of that?
"Gonn' check out that secret room! Call if you need Gau!"
How exciting. They worked themselves up and nothing was there. At least, no immediate threat. Lucky for their knight in shining armor.
[break][break] Cissnei stepped through last, her eyes adjusting to the lower lighting. Well, someone certainly made a mess? But was it a result of a failed experiment or a scuffle? And before Cissnei could even stop Gau from rushing onto a floor full of splinters and broken glass, he already seemed to give her the slip. She gave a sigh. Guess he would learn the hard way, then they’d have to patch him up. She simply managed a good humored, “Watch your step.”
[break][break]
While Gau seemed intrigued by random things in the room, Cissnei decided to first examine the shelf that was smashed inwards, simply because it was closest to her. Did it have any clues to what smashed it...or who? Torn clothing? Hair? Chemicals?
[break][break] “Don’t touch that.” Cissnei warned, suddenly nervous at seeing him touch chemicals. She felt her hair stand on end as he pressed his hand into the shelf and left the chemicals on it. Cissnei felt her back teeth grind. She tried to muster sweetly, “You sure did…” The kid obviously didn’t know better, but she certainly was less happy about it.
[break][break] And in another two heartbeats, he was already heading down the stairs. Cissnei gave a sigh. It was not really because G’raha asked her to...it was just that Gau would probably make a mess of that scene too. She needed to see it before he did. She snatched a lantern from the shelf and lit it with a whispered fire spell. She felt like a tonberry skulking behind him
On closer inspection, the smashed bookcase is smeared with strange purple blood. Despite its coloration, the copper scent is unmistakable -- at least for someone as experienced in these things as a Turk. The splinters have caught a few patches of scaly skin. The blow towards the bookshelf came from the direction of the door, thrusting something into it that must have been at least three hundred pounds.
Cissnei has been here before.
It’s a sudden feeling and a not particularly specific one. A momentary sense of deja vu. She came through this way, and she hadn’t been alone.
The broken window has been shattered by force. Along the edges are two bullet holes.
As it happens, bare feet are not particularly well-suited for blindly crawling over wood splinters and broken glass. There’s quite a lot of it. An alarming amount even, and in the pitch black darkness of the basement, it can’t easily be avoided.
They slice into his bare skin, leaving him wounded and bleeding.
Cissnei’s lantern gives about a four foot radius of light into the basement storage room. Even a quick glance shows it’s in absolute ruin. The shelves here have been pulverized. Plates and potions and glasses and jars have all been smashed to bits on the floor. The room is sticky with wine and jam. Various tea leaves have been scattered over pots and pans and kettles. The meat smell is strong here, and it’s not hard to see why.
Slumped against the opposite wall is a figure that at first looks human, but is definitely not. The light casts it in a ghastly shadow. Despite its humanoid form, it’s nearly six and a half feet tall, bulky and solidly built with scaled skin like a snake’s. Its vacant eyes are slit down the pupils. Its fanged mouth hangs ajar. Its chest is stained with purple blood which seems to almost glow in the dim lantern light. It’s littered with bullet wounds and the several piercing stabs of something with an irregular edge.
